We Love You, Appa!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
The World Cup...and Appa must be smiling!
There are some times when a person's absence is more keenly felt than at others. Cricket is one of those things that cannot happen without Appa's memory--and his absent presence--joining us (I won't say "intruding" because it is his memory that makes it complete, in a funny sort of way, so it could never be an intrusion). This was the first ICC World Cup that Appa missed. It's also the first Cup that we watched with him in Vikrampuri. Every time the series was played, since 1999, he has been in the US, with Shekar, and I've heard stories of him getting up at unearthly hours, watching first on a computer hook up and then on a satellite hook up, as technology and global television advanced. He was at one time seriously thinking of going to the event in South Africa but that didn't happen. The years when he was in the US watching the event there, I don't think we missed him as much--if only because we were able to share the experience over email and phone conversations, and of course, follow it up in recaps when he was here watching some other match.
This year we've been at a couple of cricket events where his absence was palpable. The first was on January 15, when Ananya's team played their final game in the South Zone T20 against Karnataka. Amma, Upen and I watched the match race to a nail biting finish, thinking of Appa's reaction to every ball and every run that Karnataka snatched from the team that ultimately won. He would have been cheering louder than any of the parents there, I am sure. The others were of course the last two matches of the World Cup--India vs Pakistan and the Final. He would have intermittently switched off the television and walked out of the room, willing things to happen in India's favour by his actions. And of course there would have been lots of ice cream to celebrate, on both days (maybe jalebis as well on April 2!).
We smile when we think of what he would have said or done, but you can't help feel that tug at the heart ....
This year we've been at a couple of cricket events where his absence was palpable. The first was on January 15, when Ananya's team played their final game in the South Zone T20 against Karnataka. Amma, Upen and I watched the match race to a nail biting finish, thinking of Appa's reaction to every ball and every run that Karnataka snatched from the team that ultimately won. He would have been cheering louder than any of the parents there, I am sure. The others were of course the last two matches of the World Cup--India vs Pakistan and the Final. He would have intermittently switched off the television and walked out of the room, willing things to happen in India's favour by his actions. And of course there would have been lots of ice cream to celebrate, on both days (maybe jalebis as well on April 2!).
We smile when we think of what he would have said or done, but you can't help feel that tug at the heart ....
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Chittappa, Superman and Baap Re Baap thatha
He was cool, stylish and evergreen. Always had a smile and somehow I felt that he had some special corner in his heart reserved for me. I think that is just the way he made many feel. With RayBan glasses, forever smartly dressed, a trait that is not necessarily identified with many in the Mangalam family, and more relatable to the my generation in many ways, that was chittappa.
I vaguely remember the times that we lived in the same house in St. John's road (Secunderabad). I do remember chittappa coming back from London. I distinctly remember coming back from Ethiopia and then finding out that they are moving to Baroda. I was distraught! I remember going to Madras for a wedding and opting to come back to Secunderabad instead of going on a 'Temple trip' with amma & appa because I was getting a chance to ride 1st Class with chittappa & chitti back. I thought he was incredibly cool. He could do no wrong. He was Superman. That is what I called him as he picked me up and swung me around when I was a kid.
A few years ago, on one of their visits to the US, Rushika got to meet and spend some time with chittappa. He was to her as he was to me. A lot of fun. And as most kids are, demanding of more after you give them a little, a tired chittappa would exclaim "Baap Re Baap!". Everytime since I have to refer to him in my conversations to Rushika, she would say, "You mean Baap re Baap thatha?".
I picked up Ravi's voicemail as soon as my plane landed in Seattle informing me that chittappa had passed just an hour ago. I choked briefly, feeling bad that I had missed the opportunity to see him, but something inside me told me that that may have meant another hour of suffering for him.
A couple of years ago when chittappa, krishna, kasturi and myself had driven down to the Godavari river to immerse appa's ashes and chittappa insisted on walking down to the banks and then climbing the stairs back up. You could see the effort he was putting in. It was evident in his loud gasps for air. But such was his love for his brother.
The warmth of this family and its sheer reach have absolutely amazed me. I don't think there are many other's like us, although I would hope there are. The world would certainly be a much better place if that were so. I cannot help but think that its moments such as this that remind us how important it is to keep these ties green and to pass on their strength to the next generation. The support and strength one gets from being with family in times like these are immeasurable and both appa & chittappa have embodied that spirit more than anyone else I know.
I am sure there is welcome party up in the Great Beyond among the Mangalams, not an eagerly awaited one, but timely nevertheless.
I vaguely remember the times that we lived in the same house in St. John's road (Secunderabad). I do remember chittappa coming back from London. I distinctly remember coming back from Ethiopia and then finding out that they are moving to Baroda. I was distraught! I remember going to Madras for a wedding and opting to come back to Secunderabad instead of going on a 'Temple trip' with amma & appa because I was getting a chance to ride 1st Class with chittappa & chitti back. I thought he was incredibly cool. He could do no wrong. He was Superman. That is what I called him as he picked me up and swung me around when I was a kid.
A few years ago, on one of their visits to the US, Rushika got to meet and spend some time with chittappa. He was to her as he was to me. A lot of fun. And as most kids are, demanding of more after you give them a little, a tired chittappa would exclaim "Baap Re Baap!". Everytime since I have to refer to him in my conversations to Rushika, she would say, "You mean Baap re Baap thatha?".
I picked up Ravi's voicemail as soon as my plane landed in Seattle informing me that chittappa had passed just an hour ago. I choked briefly, feeling bad that I had missed the opportunity to see him, but something inside me told me that that may have meant another hour of suffering for him.
A couple of years ago when chittappa, krishna, kasturi and myself had driven down to the Godavari river to immerse appa's ashes and chittappa insisted on walking down to the banks and then climbing the stairs back up. You could see the effort he was putting in. It was evident in his loud gasps for air. But such was his love for his brother.
The warmth of this family and its sheer reach have absolutely amazed me. I don't think there are many other's like us, although I would hope there are. The world would certainly be a much better place if that were so. I cannot help but think that its moments such as this that remind us how important it is to keep these ties green and to pass on their strength to the next generation. The support and strength one gets from being with family in times like these are immeasurable and both appa & chittappa have embodied that spirit more than anyone else I know.
I am sure there is welcome party up in the Great Beyond among the Mangalams, not an eagerly awaited one, but timely nevertheless.
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